


unlikely opportunities

by MoraMew



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Barebacking, Begging, Crying, Daddy Kink, Desperation, Dom/sub Undertones, Extremely Dubious Consent, Ivy's handy dandy sex pollen/toxins, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sex Pollen, Slade mentally comparing Tim to Dick, Slade's not going to pass up an opportunity to get another robin, Verbal Humiliation, blowjob, mentions of: Slade/Dick and Slade/Jason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21616519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: Out of all people to find Tim Drake fucked up on Ivy’s newest and most potent of toxins, it’s Slade Wilson.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Slade Wilson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 219





	unlikely opportunities

**Author's Note:**

> it's 8:03 in the morning and no i didn't edit this and yes i will eventually
> 
> sorry- i had to self-indulge

Out of all people to find Tim Drake fucked up on Ivy’s newest and most potent of toxins, it’s Slade Wilson.  
  
The kid is out of it already- pupils blown so wide that Slade can’t see more than a sliver of infamous blue, body flushed and covered in sweat, suit torn from where the boy has clawed at himself in an effort to get it off. He’s so fucked up that he can’t remember how to take it off properly, so fucked up that instead of yelping or cursing when the security of the suit shocks him that he _moans_ instead.   
  
Well. That’s interesting.   
  
Slade watches the little bird struggle and whine and pant and _moan_. It’s obvious to see that Tim is hard- which is a feat considering Slade knows the uniform comes with a cup. The boy is going to be fucked up for a while, Slade thinks, and he wonders idly what would happen if the Bat were to show up and see his little protege writhing and moaning on the dirty factory floor like a _slut_.   
  
Maybe he’d be into it. Man’s got to be some kind of fucked up to take on Gotham’s worst each and every night.   
  
Slade hums to himself and watches as Tim manages to tear a hole in his suit big enough to slip his hand into, watches as it moves underneath the kevlar as the boy strokes himself. By the whine he lets out, it’s not good enough to alleviate the burning need that’s sure to be tearing him up.   
  
Slade watches, and he considers.   
  
He’s not really had much interaction with this particular bird, really. He knows the boy is smart and he knows the boy is fierce and he knows that tragedy follows him around like a puppy. They’ve ran across each other a handful of times, but have only really fought once- and Dick ended up taking over the battle anyway while Tim slipped away with the man Slade had been contracted to kill.   
  
Slade had ended up fulfilling that contract in the end- it had just taken a few weeks and a series of distractions for the bats.   
  
That had been the only real interaction Slade had had with the boy. Yes, he kept some tabs on him- he kept tabs on all of the bats and birds- and, yes, he considered meddling in the boy’s solo missions whenever he was seriously bored or needing to let off some steam, but the two had never really had the interaction like Slade had with Dick, or even Jason.   
  
Slade’s just not been too interested in him.   
  
That’s not keeping him from watching Tim, though. Definitely not keeping him from appreciating the choked off, upset, desperate noises that are coming from the boy as he tries- and fails- to pacify the need that’s slowly driving him mad.   
  
Ivy’s really outdone herself this time.   
  
Slade watches as a sob wracks from Tim, watches as he shakes and ignores the communicator that’s lighting up and going off just a few feet from him. The boy’s too wrapped up in his own little hell to notice it, too busy whimpering as his hips rock up.   
  
Poor little bird.   
  
Slade’s lips twitch into a small smirk and then smooth out into neutrality. He watches the boy and considers leaving him be, considers taking him away.   
  
Batman will be around soon enough, probably. He’ll take the boy and give him an antidote and it’ll all be one embarrassing, blurry memory for Timothy Drake.   
  
Unless…   
  
Well, it never hurts to have something to leverage against the Bat- and against Dick.   
  
And the boy is amusing to watch like this, appealing. Slade’s a little hard and, honestly, the whole affair is making him consider the bird in a new light.   
  
Ivy’s toxin won’t kill the boy, probably. Slade can take advantage of it for the moment, can synthesize an antidote and keep the baby bird in a cage until Slade needs him as a bartering tool.   
  
Yes. That’s what he’s going to do.   
  
Slade jumps down onto the floor below and Tim doesn’t even look up. Boy’s lost in a haze and it’s clear that he can’t find a way out. It’s only when Slade is right up on him that the boy looks up with a soft, confused noise.   
  
Slade’s honestly surprised that he managed to get the mask off- if the suit gave him that much trouble, the mask should have given him double it.   
  
But, he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.   
  
He crouches down to pick the boy up and Tim _shakes_ \- body trembling like a leaf in the wind and a ragged pant leaving him as he reaches to paw at Slade’s chest. Slade snorts his amusement at it and Tim whines, wriggles in his arms until Slade gets annoyed and holds him tighter.   
  
“Be still,” Slade orders, the barest hint of a growl in the words.   
  
And Tim does just that.   
  
He goes still almost immediately- breathing picking up and eyes going wide as he stares at Slade. His heart is beating a million miles a minute- Slade can hear it and, god, maybe he’s a little more than hard now- and the flush on his cheeks is fucking _gorgeous_.   
  
“Sl-Slade?”   
  
The whisper is a surprise and Slade acknowledges it with a hum, crushes the communicator beneath his boot as he begins to carry his newest acquisition away.   
  
“Please,” Tim whines, fingers curling against Slade’s chest. ” _Please_ -”   
  
“Quiet,” Slade tells him, not sharp but firm. Tim’s lashes flutter at his voice and a whimper leaves him, but the little bird obeys.   
  
Hmm. More subservient than Slade thought he’d be.   
  
That could make the night fun.   
  
Lips twitching into a smirk, Slade disappears into the night- Tim succumbing more and more to the toxin in his veins and Slade growing more and more interested in the boy wonder he had never cared about before.   
  


* * *

  
By the time they get to his closest safehouse, there are tears streaming down Tim’s cheeks. It’s a _good_ fucking look on him and Slade looks forward to seeing that same look when the boy is on his knees.   
  
Tim still hasn’t said anything- not since Slade ordered him to stay quiet. He’s being well behaved and Slade is mildly curious if it’s just because of the overwhelming need that’s taken him over or if he’s just really that _good_.   
  
Honestly, he thinks it might be a mixture of both. Thinks that when he’s not fucked up, though, that the little birdy has to torn down to get docile and desperate and well behaved.   
  
He’ll have to try and see if he’s right sometime in the future.   
  
Slade deposits Tim on the bed and Tim stares up at him with foggy, glazed over eyes. The tears are still there and the boy is still hard and flushed and, my, maybe Slade should have paid more attention to him before.   
  
Slade rakes his eye over the boy as he strips himself of his chest armor, the shirt underneath. Tim stops breathing when Slade tosses his shirt to the side and then there’s a whimper, a grinding of slim hips down against the bed.   
  
“Please,” Tim begs, breathless and choking on need, “I need- please- want- it _burns_ -”   
  
Slade ignores the enticing begging and reaches out to grab Tim’s chin, run his thumb over a bitten up bottom lip.   
  
“I thought,” Slade tells him, pushing his thumb into a wet, wet mouth, “I told you to be quiet.”   
  
He pushes his thumb down onto Tim’s tongue and the boy whimpers, his eyes go nearly cross eyed. Some strangled noise tears from the boy’s throat and he trembles hard, gasps and chokes on his own spit.   
  
Slade has to chuckle when he realizes that the little baby bird has came in his suit.   
  
How adorable. How _pathetic_.   
  
“If only Batman could see you now,” Slade says, voice amused.   
  
Lashes flutter and Tim moans around Slade’s thumb, grinds against the bed again.   
  
Of course, one small orgasm wasn’t enough to sate the toxin’s effects.   
  
No, no. The baby bird is going to have to have much, _much_ more.   
  
Slade looks over the boy and slowly pulls his thumb out from that wet, hot mouth, moves his hand to push his fingers through thick, black hair. He curls them up- loose at first and then tight to make Tim moan.   
  
“Oh, kid, you’re in for a _long_ night.”   
  
Pretty lips move wordlessly and Slade can read them well enough to make out a silent, begging “Please please please.” He’s not talking and he’s obeying and it’s incredibly hot to see the boy desperate and teary eyed.   
  
“I’m sure you’re going to behave for me,” Slade continues on. “Aren’t you?”   
  
Tim looks torn for a second- lips parting once more and then closing as he nods.   
  
“You can answer,” Slade allows.   
  
“Yes...yes, sir.”   
  
The sir makes Slade cock twitch, but the quiet whine in the words and the way the boy tilts his head to make Slade pull on his hair harder makes Slade want to curse.   
  
“Good boy,” Slade rewards. Tim whimpers and Slade lets go of his hair, pushes him back onto the bed. Tim squirms and his hands go back to trying to tear off his suit- frustrated, cut off noises leaving him all the while.   
  
It’s amusing to watch the boy struggle, but Slade is ready for him to be stripped down.   
  
He leans over and pushes shaky hands away, moves to take off the suit himself. It’s slightly trickier than expected, but no real challenge. He tosses it in a corner once it’s done, takes a moment to rake his gaze over Tim and admire what he’s managed to get into his bed.   
  
He’s pretty. Not as pretty as Dick, but still pretty. Lean and scarred and pale. He doesn’t have the muscle tone that Dick does, but Slade know he has power under that deceptively soft looking skin.   
  
It’s kind of a turn on, in a way- seeing Tim as something falsely delicate looking, knowing he’s nothing but intellect and danger underneath. The added bonus of the anger and intellect being taken away is another turn on and _another_ turn on is the way that Tim looks up at him whenever Slade places a hand on his chest- eyes hooded and murky and cheeks flushed, face filled with nothing but crushing need.   
  
“Such a mess,” Slade comments, tongue clicking as he drags a finger down to touch the come sticking to a thin stomach. “Didn’t your _daddy_ teach you better? Clean yourself up, kid.”   
  
The little bird _shakes_ at that- breathes in sharp and quick and flushes all over.   
  
Interesting.   
  
“Daddy…”   
  
The groaned out word is half unexpected, but Slade enjoys it- smirks because that certain kink is still going strong through all the Robins so far.   
  
Does Batman know about that little quirk in his birds?   
  
Slade hums, deep and low, and watches as trembling fingers reach down to scoop up come, watches as Tim sucks on those digits with a moan. The boy’s cock is still rock hard- twitching as Tim takes fingers from _both_ hands and uses them to gather come, stuffs them into his mouth to suckle on them.   
  
Fuck.   
  
“Like your mouth being full, huh?” Slade teases, low and just a bit hungry as he walks over to the side of the bed. Tim nods, shameless as his hips rock into the air in the search of some sort of friction that he no doubt needs. “Of course you do. Come over here, kid, and I’ll give you something better than _fingers_.”   
  
The whine that leaves the boy is eager- just as eager as how he immediately takes his fingers out with wet _pop_ , how he crawls over to Slade and leans to try to mouth at his cock through his armor.   
  
It’s pathetic and desperate and hot, amusing.   
  
Slade is going to have to find a way to subtly thank Ivy for this.   
  
Maybe he’ll let Harley out the next time he swings by the asylum.   
  
Slade runs his fingers through Tim’s hair again, jerks the boy away from him. His lips almost move in a smile when Tim whimpers, but he just tugs a little harder on the dark locks, lets them go as he starts to take the rest of his armor off.   
  
“Such an eager slut,” Slade comments as he slowly undresses. Tim’s eyes are almost focused now, intent and hungry as Slade pushes his armor down and out of the way. “Are you like this outside of your little costume too? A rich little cock sucking whore for all your daddy’s friends?”   
  
For all the chemicals twisting Tim helpless and frantic with need, the boy has the faintest annoyed look on his face. Right up until he hears the “ _daddy_ ,” at least. He shudders then and he moans, wraps his hand around his cock and ruts into it.   
  
Slade clicks his tongue and grabs Tim’s hand, forces it away. He leans down until they’re eye level and then growls out one deep, “No.”   
  
Frustration crosses over the little bird’s face, but Tim’s hand stays limp by his side- only moving once in an upset twitch.   
  
Slade almost rewards him with a “good boy,” but decides against it. He moves instead to take off his underwear and smirks when Tim’s eyes go wide- when a pink tongue darts out to wet bitten up lips.   
  
Slade doesn’t need the ego stroke, but it’s a nice bonus.   
  
He grabs Tim by the hair again and pulls him close, rocks his hips forward so his cock rubs all over the little bird’s pretty face. Tim moans at it, hot breath fanning over Slade’s dick unevenly, and Slade’s eye narrows in approval at the way Tim stares up at him pleadingly.   
  
“You want it?”   
  
Tim nods- eager in a way that reminds him of Dick. It’s hard not to smirk at it.   
  
He pulls on Tim’s hair- hard- instead and makes Tim gasp, makes long lashes flutter.   
  
“Then ask for it- like a good boy.”   
  
It’s amazing that the little bird can manage to flush darker. Tim squirms on the bed, hands fisting the covers, and he whimpers as he looks up at Slade, as he shudders out a ragged breath.   
  
“...please,” Tim begs, voice nearly cracking in want. The tears on his face are dried now, but his voice seems like he’s close to letting them go again.   
  
“Not good enough, kid,” Slade growls. He rocks his hips back away and Tim chokes out an upset little sob, whines with something that almost seems like a panic.   
  
“Fuck- please- please, sir. Need it. Need it in my mouth, need it in me- fucking- _fill_ me with it, please- please- I want- I need- Da- _sir_!”   
  
Slade growls again and this time it’s more pleased. He doesn’t push his hips forward, though, and instead tugs on the boy’s hair, reaches for runs a finger down a heated cheek.   
  
“Need _what_? Come on, baby, use your words.”   
  
The boy fucking _melts_ at that- shivers and calms down, looks up at him with those blown out eyes and an expression so helplessly wanting that Slade almost passes up the blowjob in exchange for fucking the boy raw right away.   
  
“Your…” Tim swallows and he leans forward, looking unconscious of the act, when Slade moves his fingers away- chasing them like the needy thing he’s been forced to be. “I want...I need...I need your...cock, pl- _please_.”   
  
Slade hides a groan and rewards Tim with his fingers caressing one cheek, his dick moving against the other.   
  
“Yeah, that’s it,” Slade rumbles out. “You want my cock. _Daddy’s_ cock.”   
  
Tim shudders and he nods, the haze in his eyes seeming to grow. Slade notices his hands kneading the covers of the bed and wonders if he’s trying to keep from touching, if he’s being good on purpose or if it’s an unconscious act.   
  
“Please?” Tim asks, looking up at him. His voice would be almost meek if it weren’t for the heat in it, the need.   
  
“Please what?”   
  
A soft whine bubbles out of Tim’s throat and Slade likes it- likes it a lot.   
  
“Please...please…” A moan and then the words come out rushed, frantic, “Please, Daddy, I want your cock!”   
  
Slade hums and tugs Tim’s hair so the boy’s lips brush against his dick.   
  
“Good boy,” Slade growls.   
  
He pushes in and Tim accepts him eagerly- chokes on his length at first before relaxing and moaning around him. His lids fall heavy and Slade thinks the boy will close his eyes, is pleased when they only fall half-shut and he can see the baby bird’s fogged over baby blues.   
  
Tim tries to move, tries to bob his head and swallow him down. Slade does _not_ allow that, though, and keeps a firm hold on the boy’s hair, doesn’t allow him to move.   
  
He’ll be the one controlling this.   
  
Slade thinks he hears a choked little whine, but ignores it. He just rocks into the boy’s mouth instead- goes inch by inch until he’s buried in Tim’s throat. He stays still for a moment so he can enjoy the way Tim’s lips are stretched open wide for him, so he can enjoy the spit already welling up in that hot mouth, so he can enjoy the way Tim keeps trying to swallow around him in an attempt to breathe.   
  
Slade moves his free hand down to Tim’s throat and wraps around it loosely, feels satisfied at the way his cock bulges in that soft, delicate neck.   
  
If he wanted to, he could kill the baby bird like this- choke him out with his dick buried in his throat or even slit it with one of the knives he has concealed in his headboard.   
  
He doesn’t want to, though.   
  
Instead he slowly starts to fuck the pretty bird’s mouth, throat. He takes his time with it, is as leisurely with it as he wants.   
  
And Tim lets him. Lets him use his mouth like a wet, warm hole. Lets him fuck into his throat like a _good_ boy. His hands skitter over the covers and grasps them tight enough to white knuckles, but he doesn’t move- lets Slade move his head instead. The only thing he _does_ do is whine and moan and dribble spit everywhere, stare up at Slade with teary, but fogged over and nearly blissed out eyes instead.   
  
A good boy indeed.   
  
“That’s it, kid. You’re taking daddy’s cock so fucking well,” Slade growls out, gripping Tim’s head with both hands so he can really start fucking his mouth.   
  
It’s going to hurt later on, definitely. Slade’s dick is stretching out the little bird’s mouth to it’s absolute limits- making those lips thin and tight. It’s red around Tim’s mouth, and the corners look like they might be splitting a little.   
  
It’s a wonder Tim’s able to take him at all.   
  
But he’s obviously had practice. The question is with _who_.   
  
Jason? The Bat? Dick? Hell, maybe that super clone.   
  
Doesn’t matter, really. All that matters is that Tim is taking his cock like a champ and Slade can’t wait to really fuck the little bird.   
  
Slade growls at the thought and fucks into Tim’s mouth hard, pulls out so the boy can choke and splutter and catch his breath. The spit that spills over his lips and down his chin is hot, but it’s even hotter when Tim gives a hoarse whine, leans forward to try to wrap his lips around Slade again.   
  
“No,” Slade tells him, firm and hungry. Panic takes over the boy’s face and Slade calms him with a touch to his cheek, with his fingers pushing into the boy’s greedy mouth. “Daddy’s going to fuck you now.”   
  
A whimper and Tim shakes and moans. One tear drips from sooty lashes and Slade wrenches his fingers from Tim’s mouth, smears the spit over that pretty face.   
  
Tim moans again, like a well paid whore, and Slade gets on the bed, drags the boy to the middle with him.   
  
“Hands and knees,” Slade orders. “Face the headboard.”   
  
The boy scrambles to comply and Slade eyes him critically, reaches over and places a firm hair in the middle of his back. When he pushes, the boy goes down easily and Slade runs his hands over him with a deep hum.   
  
He’s no Dick, but the little bird’s ass isn’t half-bad.   
  
“Daddy, please,” Tim begs, breath coming out in a shaky exhale. “God, fuck, _please_.”   
  
Slade could get used to that begging, the way _please_ comes from the boy- breathy and needy and _greedy_.   
  
“You’ll get what you get _when_ I give it to you,” Slade tells him dryly, adding a heavy handed spank after for good measure.   
  
Tim _moans_ at that, hips arching higher in the air and Slade smirks in amusement.   
  
He’s half-tempted to mark the little birdy up, bruise him over with his own lust.   
  
Not this time, though. He wants to rile the Bats up, yeah, but he doesn’t want the annoyance of their vengeance.   
  
So, instead, he knocks the boy’s legs out wider and leans between them, spreads open firm cheeks. At the first lick, Tim gasps. At the second, he whimpers. At the third, he moans.   
  
When he adds in a finger, Tim starts grinding back against him- hips moving slowly as he moans. Slade entertains the thought of the birdy grinding like that in his lap and growls his pleasure at the mental image.   
  
That’s definitely happening later tonight.   
  
For now, though, he stretches the boy out. Uses spit and fingers to pry Tim open, fucks him with his admittedly thick digits until the boy is loose enough to take him. Tim comes during it, but Slade doesn’t punish him- he wants to wring out every orgasm he can, make the boy come until he can’t even move.   
  
“Coming already?” Slade taunts, moving to breathe the words against the boy’s ear to make him squirm. “Sensitive little slut.”   
  
“ _Slade_ ,” Tim whines, insides clenching down around his fingers.   
  
“Hush,” Slade growls lightly, biting into the shell of the boy’s ear and dragging his teeth down to tug on the lobe. Tim whines- high and reedy- and Slade’s dick jumps at the sound, throbs with his own desire. “You know what to call me.”   
  
A groan and then Tim’s hips are rocking back, his fingers are curling into the covers.   
  
“ _Daddy_ ,” Tim moans. “ _Fuck_ me.”   
  
It’s demanding and Slade kind of loves it. Kind of wonders if the toxin is starting to fade away, too.   
  
Doesn’t care when Tim adds on a breathy, soft little “Please…”   
  
Slade nips at Tim’s ear and then starts to nip down his throat, over his shoulder and down his back. The boy whimpers and squirms, but behaves well enough for Slade. Slade rewards him with a spank and then moves to ease into the little birdy.   
  
He pauses before it, takes a smug moment to enjoy that he’s collected a third Robin, that he’s going to fuck another one of the Bat’s brats, that this is going to drive both Dick and Jason up the fucking walls when they find out.   
  
Yeah, he’s definitely going to let Harley out for Ivy. He’s definitely going to find other ways to pay her back for this.   
  
“How do you think your brothers would feel if they saw you like this?” Slade asks, spreading Tim’s cheeks wide and admiring his already sloppy looking hole. “If they saw you spread out and begging for my cock?”   
  
Tim whines and Slade catches the sight of the boy’s cock jumping, leaking.   
  
“ _Daddy_ -”   
  
“It’s okay,” Slade tells him, cutting Tim off. He starts to ease into Tim and breathes in deep at that great heat, lets out a sound caught between a groan and a growl. “They’ve been like this too. Probably would be jealous over it.”   
  
Tim gasps, but it’s lost in a whimper and Slade licks his lips, grabs onto the slim hips and keeps them still when Tim tries to roll them back so he can get _more_ of Slade.   
  
“Jason might try to get me to let him fuck you,” Slade growls, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise. “Smart mouthed brat claims to hate you, but I know he’d be fucking eager to have his dick in your ass.”   
  
Tim’s breathing stutters and he tightens around Slade, lets out a shameless moan.   
  
“Yeah, you’d like that,” Slade continues on, sliding in deeper. “You’d like your brothers to fuck you after daddy does. You’d like to be a good little fuckhole for everyone, wouldn’t you?”   
  
Tim sobs and it almost sounds like _please_.   
  
Slade smirks and he rolls his hips until he’s buried fully in Tim, gives him a second to moan before he rocks his hips back and then _fucks_ them forward.   
  
Fast and rough. He doesn’t have the patience to be gentle with it. Tim doesn’t seem to mind it- keeps moaning and gasping and clenching around him like a goddamn vice.   
  
The boy’s hips try to fuck back and Slade growls, moves a foot to rest on Tim’s head. The position lets him get deeper and Tim _screams_ when Slade brushes against his sweet spot, comes and goes limp with a whimper.   
  
And Slade keeps fucking him. Tim keeps croaking out little _pleases_ and whines of _daddy_ and his greedy hole keeps tightening around him, tries to fucking milk him like he needs Slade’s come to breathe.   
  
Slade growls and he grinds his foot harder against Tim’s face, grunts and fucks the boy faster as he edges closer to his release. When he does come, the little bird sobs and Slade rakes his nails down over Tim’s sides deep enough to draw blood.   
  
So much for not leaving marks.   
  
A spank and then Slade pulls out of the boy, smirks in satisfaction when Tim’s hole spasms and come leaks out, when the boy whines quietly, tiredly.   
  
Baby blues are less blown when Slade jerks Tim up on his lap and Tim blinks at him drunkenly, makes a soft, almost confused noise.   
  
“We’re not done yet,” Slade tells him, tilting the little bird’s chin up. “Not by a long shot.”   
  
He kisses him then- rough and with a bite to his lower lip- and Tim moans into it, rocks his hips against him. He keens when Slade wraps a hand around their cocks and Slade smirks, dips his head to bite into Tim’s neck.   
  
“Good boy,” Slade growls. “ _Good_ boy.”


End file.
